


Christmas Eve Will Find Me

by teaandcardigans



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Challenge Response, Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Holidays, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 18,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21616306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandcardigans/pseuds/teaandcardigans
Summary: Collection of one-shots and ficlets in response to FluffCember, although some are not so fluffy. Hoping to have a new part for every day in December leading up to Christmas most will be based around Harry/Macy pairing.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 98
Kudos: 119





	1. Hold Me

Macy pulls the box from underneath her bed, worn and heavy, hidden from prying eyes. Ever since Mel and Maggie had turned her room upside down and managed to find her most hidden thoughts she had become a little more wary about where she hid things. 

Although she bore them no ill will, they had been trying to save her life after all, the initial feeling that they new her most hidden desires had made her uncomfortable to say the least. But she had told them all was forgiven, as long as they didn’t tell Harry. And the sisters had been sworn to secrecy. 

She felt uneasy around Harry since the ‘incident’ with his darklighter. He was the only person she felt that she could talk to about him, and he was the only one who didn’t want to broach the subject. So she was left with her own thoughts and theories about the man who had been the ‘darklighter’ who had worn Harry’s face and yet was a completely separate man in his own right. 

She managed to push those thoughts aside, not for the first time, as she opened the box in front of her. A sense of familiarity and comfort washing over her as her fingers traced the outlines of its contents. She had kept every single one. One for every year she was at boarding school, for every year at college, every year she had moved out of home. He had never missed one and every year, after Christmas trees were taken down, and lights packed away until the next year. She would carefully place it in this box, along with other trinketst and knick knacks shes couldn't bear to let go until it became almost too full to close securely. 

And then they had stopped, because he was gone and she was all alone. The first year had been the hardest, when there had been no red or green envelope gracing her letterbox, and she had finally made the decision to move to a new town, get a new start and try to bury the loneliness that consumed her. 

Her favourite one placed perfectly on top.

_Dear Macy,_

_Happy Christmas, I am so proud of the woman that you are becoming, and I know your mother would be too. Only a few weeks left, and I will have a cup of cocoa waiting for you (with two marshmallows, of course)._

_Love, Dad._

Her fingers traced the words, moving over the little loop of his ‘l’s and the slight smudge where the ink must still have been wet while his hand passed over it, a lefty, like herself. She looked out her window, the card still in her hand as she culd remember Christmases spent with her dad, those few brief days where it was just the two of them and they would bake and eat, and fall asleep on the couch bellies full and a Christmas special playing in the background. 

She missed him. Well she always missed him, but at this time of year, and with everything that had happened, her new home stolen from under her, she missed him more than normal.

She cursed herself as a tear drop splashed onto the card, wetting the ‘Love’ and she tried to wipe it away without smudging the ink, letting out another frustrated sigh as the ink was further smudged. 

Just as there was a quite knock on her half open door. 

She closed the card quickly, sniffing as she replaced the lid. 

“Come in,” she answered as she placed the pillow on top of the box, before Harry stepped into view. She knew it would be him, he always knocked, even if the door was wide open he would always knock, seeking permission before he came inside her most private, protected space. 

“Harry,” she greeted with a bright smile, another sniff as she wiped her eyes with her sleeves. Wiping away the last of the evidence of her emotions. 

“Are you okay Macy?” he asked, concern permeating the question as he took a seat on the bed next to her, leaving a safe amount of distance between them. He had been very careful about that lately, leaving enough space, where before he would of snatched upon every opportunity to be closer than he should be. 

“I’m fine,” she promised him, hoping that the unshed tears in her eyes, and reddened nose wouldn’t give her away. 

“I could hear.” His hand reaches out to place gently on her arm, and it is the closest contact they have had in weeks. She looks up at him and he gives her a gentle smile, the one that at times, keeps her strong, keeps her going, when everything is falling down around her. The same smile he gave her when she was consumed by the Source and his thoughts and feelings had crashed into her like a tidal wave she was unable to escape. 

“Hold me,” she manages, and she can see the hesitation in his eyes, knowing that he could say no. That it could cross a line that the two of them have been avoiding since they found her. But she is aching for that sense of comfort, for the love of another person. She doesn’t want to talk, to go over again what has changed, she just needs his arms around her. “Please.”

And then his arms are wrapping around her, and her body is pulled against his. His thumb moving rhythmically back and forth across her upper arm, in such a soothing movement, that she can for at least this moment believe that nothing has changed between them. 

“I’ve got you Macy,” he whispers into her hair, and she allows herself to snuggle further into his arms, his chest warm against her cheek. “Always.”


	2. 2.Ugly Sweaters

"Nope." Macy said with a simple shake of her head and folding of her arms across her chest. 

"But-" 

"No way." Macy eyed the garment in Harry’s hand with a heavy amount of suspicion at the bright colours and garish design.

"It's the theme." Was that an actual pout? Harry Greenwood could pout? Worse still could it actually be working. 

Damn.

“Stupid theme,” she mutters under her breath as she begrudgingly takes the hanger from his hand. Ignoring the small triumphant smile that graces his features. She had been almost certain Maggie had been joking when she had told them the theme for the Safe Space Christmas Party, until she had shown her the official invitation and Macy’s stomach had sunk. Harry meanwhile had been an unnatural amount of excited, and then she had remembered the last time she had seen him in Christmas ‘attire’.

She held the sweater up to her body, frowning as she looked in the mirror. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer stared back at her. She let out a huff as she came to terms with what would be her attire for the evening. 

Harry came up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, as he rested his chin on her shoulder. 

“You would look stunning in anything, Dr Vaughn.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Flattery, Harry?”

“Most definitely,” he agreed, placing a kiss against her cheek. She did managed a quick calculation in her head as to whether they had time to spare for a quick little ‘session’ but coming to the conclusion that there was nowhere near enough time if they headed down that road. They might not even make the party at all. 

What a shame.

Instead she returned turned her head to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, sharing his smile. 

“Ooh wait,” he said quickly, before reaching around the side of the atrocious sweater, before she heard a ‘click’ and Rudolph’s nose lit up and began to flash.

“Harry!” Macy shrieked before turning round to deliver a light slap on his chest as he chuckled away.

“What? It’s festive, right?”

She placed her sweater back on her bed, ignoring the nose that continued to glow. 

“Mine lights up too.” He said proudly flicking another switch on his own sweater, causing the bright green Christmas Tree stitched onto the red sweater to light up and flicker. 

“You are lucky I love you Harry Greenwood.” Macy said with a role of her eyes as she watched the way the lights danced across his face, before wrapping her arms around him. 

“I know.” 

She presses a light kiss against his lips, surprised when he takes the opportunity to pull her flush up against him, deepening the kiss, as her hands bunch in the soft fabric of the ugliest Christmas sweater she has ever seen in her life. 

And she wouldn’t have things any other way. 


	3. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this one is angsty as well, but I have some good fluff coming for day 4. Thank you for all your kind comments on this series so far, I am excited to keep sharing these little snapshots of Christmassy goodness with you guys.

It was an unusual tradition to be stood by a gravestone on the Eve before Christmas. And yet each year they would come here. To a place that felt so familiar yet distant to him at the same time. 

Harry bent down placing the wreath in his hand down on the ground, sprigs of holly and juniper berries supplying brief flashes of colour against the evergreen branches. Macy knelt down beside him placing a hand on his shoulder, supplying a gentle comforting squeeze. A gesture that was so small so seemingly inconsequential but held in it all the reassurance and comfort that he would ever need. 

He wiped an unshed tear from his eye, a tear for a man he never really knew and yet felt inexplicably connected to all the same. A man who had lived a life that he had been able to provide. Him and the other man whose gravestone sat next to him. 

He wondered if James ever comes to visit, whether he felt the same connection or something more. Because where Harry had brief inklings and flashings of memories that could belong to him. James had everything, he could remember every smile, every bruised knee, every hug. Harry had never even had that. The feeling of arms wrapped around him, so simple and yet it would have meant everything to him. 

He feels Macy’s arm wrap around his shoulder, pulling him against her as he lets the tears fall freely. Weeping for a life lost, and one that never was. 

She gently shushes in his ear as her hand moves slowly up and down his back. Affirmations that it’s okay, he’s okay. And he believes her. 

He looks up at the gravestone in front of them, reaching out to trace over the letters with his fingers. 

> _Here lies Carter James Westwell, Beloved husband, father and son. You will always be missed._

He breathes out another sigh, as the pain subsides a little, as he reminds himself that Carter was happy, he lived a life that was deserved, built his own family and made his own mark on this world. Everything any father would want for his son. 

He pulls himself up to his feet, his hand reaching out for her as he pulls her up. His arm wrapping around her to pull her close, sheltering her from the cold and snow that has begun to fall around them. While his other hand moves lower, gently placed against her swollen belly. His heart saited when he feels the distinct kick of the new life growing inside. 

He presses a kiss against her temple, her skin warm against his cold lips and he thinks of the new family he has created. A new life separate to the one he had previously lived, one he will not miss a minute of. 

“Let’s go home.”


	4. Holiday Lights/Power Outage

“You don’t think it’s too much?” Macy asked her head tilted to the side as she admired the way the lounge had been filled with lights and ornaments. It was their first Christmas is Seattle and Macy wanted to make it as special (and traditional) as she could. Even if it would only be the four of them that would see it. 

“Not at all,” Harry replied, admiring her work, but Macy couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t being completely honest with her. And maybe she had gone a little overboard but with every ornament hung, each sprig of holly she could almost feel a calmness washing over her, and it the feeling had been slightly addictive. 

“Okay.” Macy said with a sigh and hands on her hips as she gave a final nod of approval at her handiwork. “Let’s flip the switch.”

Harry nodded and flipped the ‘switch’ on the powerboard. 

And for a brief moment it was glorious. The house bathed in a warm glow, alternate flashes of green and red, the lights hitting the sparkle of every ornament she had hung around the home. 

Until they was a final flash and the house plunged into darkness. 

Both Harry and Macy let out a little squeak, hands automatically reaching for the others, before their hearts slowed back down to a normal pace and breathing returned to normal, hands snatched away from each other in a rather awkward display. 

“I’m no electrician, Macy. But I think you may have short circuited the power.”

Macy’s hand lit up, a small ball of fire contained with her magic, lighting up the room. The light flickering across her face as she took a deep sigh. Of course the power had gone out. She had wanted to surprise Mel and Maggie when they came home. Give them something normal and without danger or consequence, something to enjoy as a family. 

But no, the higher powers whoever they may be had decided that they couldn’t even have this one thing. 

“Harry?” Harry looked up from the cupboard where he was currently gathering an armful of candles, which had been last used when they had vanquished the Enenra demon. “If we are ‘off the grid’ so to speak, how exactly are we going to get someone out to repair this?”

Harry paused for a moment thinking this through, “We will need to wipe their memory.”

“There isn’t a spell or something.” There was usually a spell of some kind. 

“The last time we tried mixing magic and electricity it didn’t exactly go in our favour.” Harry had told Macy about Mel’s experiment with magic while she had been captured by the Darklighter which had lead to the whole of Safe Space being plunged into darkness and Maggie being caught in an elevator with Jordan. 

“So we call an electrician?”

“I think it’s our only option.” Harry replied with a simple shrug of his shoulders, the candles shifting in his arms, threatening to topple over. 

“Okay you call the electrician.” Macy took the candles from his hands, balancing them in her own ams. “I’ll get on to lighting these.” 

Macy moved around the house, lighting the candles in each room, taking some comfort in the glow that they emanated, which caught the ornaments in a different way to the lights she had set up but it looked beautiful and almost magical nonetheless.

Harry came into the kitchen, muttering to himself, as he braced himself against the kitchen bench. 

Macy lit the final candle with a snap of her fingers and raised her eyebrows in question at Harry, who folded his arms across his chest.

“I’ve tried a few, the earliest I can get is tomorrow morning.” 

Macy sighed heavily. 

“How many lights did you put up?” Harry asked. 

Macy’s eyes drifted guiltily to the pile of powerboards and extension cords that were piled up in the lounge, which wasn’t even counting the ones that she had hooked up to run outside. 

“A few.” Macy answered, turning away from Harry to busy herself with something in the cupboard, “At least we still have this.” She said, holding up the stovetop kettle in her hand. She offered a smile, and Harry relented moving to the designated ‘tea’ cupboard to make his selection. 

She smiled to herself as they fell into a usual routine, having shared many cups of tea over the past months. 

Macy filled up the kettle with water before placing it on the stovetop, turning on the gas before a spark came from her forefinger, lighting up the stove. 

“You’re getting good at that.”

Macy jumped a little, at just how close he was, her hand resting on her chest as he gave a little chuckle. 

  
Harry held up two containers, “Earl Grey or Darjeeling?” 

Macy shifted her eyes between the two, “Earl Grey.” 

“Of course.” Harry said with a smile as he returned to the cupboard to retrieve two cups and their corresponding saucers. 

“Oh, wait-” Macy said quickly, moving to a drawer, pulling out two mugs. One in the shape of Jolly Old St Nick himself and another in the shape of a Snowman. 

Harry raised his eyebrows at the unusual tea drinking vessels. 

“It’s Christmas,” Macy reasoned, before Harry shrugged his shoulders placing his cups and saucers back in the cupboard and placing a tea bag in each of the novelty mugs. 

The kettle whistled loudly, before Macy took it back off the stove, clicking off the gas, and pouring the hot water into each cup. Noting how they both took their tea the same way. No milk, no sugar, just the tea, nothing added to impede it’s taste. Simple. 

“It’s a while, since we’ve done this.” Macy muses as she watches the tea bag seep into the water, watching Harry’s reaction carefully out of the corner of her eye. 

He looks up at her, giving a slight nod and Macy realises just how much she has missed it. To an outsider looking in it would be such a simple thing, sharing a cup of tea, but it had become a routine for them. A safe space where they could enjoy each other’s company without having to attach a label to it or reading more into it then friends sharing a brew. 

It really had been too long. 

“Too busy saving the world,” he said with a small smile as he removed the tea bags and handed her her cup. 

She took a sip, the tea only slightly scalding her tongue, but she enjoyed the way it warmed her hands through the thick ceramic of the mug, almost like a warm comforting hug. 

“We should probably get that fire going,” Harry looks over the lounge where the fireplace is, covered with a number of ornaments and four stockings have been hung. 

Macy gives a nod of her head and puts her mug on the counter to assist Harry with moving the logs into place, they are both so particular about their placement to create the perfect foundation that they work together almost seamlessly with little spoken communication. Once the groundwork is laid Macy produces a small fireball in her hand which she puts onto the fire and it springs into life. The warmth of the fire hitting them both head on, before they retrieve their cups of hot tea and settle in near the fire. 

Macy caught Harry looking around the lounge, a smile spreading across his lips. “It really does look beautiful Macy, even without the lights.”

Macy braced herself with her arms behind her leaning back and taking in her own handiwork, “Thanks Harry.”

“Maggie will love it.” He tells her, his hand reaching out and settling on the floor next to her own. She can’t help but notice the proximity and wonder whether it is intentional, how if she just stretched out her little finger it would reach his. Whether a simple gesture could change everything. 

“Mel will too, although she would never admit it,” he adds with a small chuckle and she swears his hand is closer than before. 

And then the temptation is too much and her hand moves ever so slightly so that it brushes against the back of his hand, the slightest of touches before she rests it against the floor, her fingers barely touching his, but the movement catches his attention and he is looking up at her in a way she’s become familiar with. 

A look that is hopeful and full of trepidation at the same time. 

And she finds herself leaning in as he does, the distance closing between them, under the steady glow of firelight. 

“I’m home!” Maggie announces loudly as she opens the front door causing Macy and Harry to snap back from each other at the interruption. 

“Oh my gosh, this place looks amazing. Oooh look at these stockings.” 

And not for the first time (or the last) Macy is cursing Maggie for her timing as she feels the moment drift away from her. 

The powers that be must really have it out for her. 


	5. Karaoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set directly after Chapter 2 'Dress Code/Ugly Sweaters'. I don't think you need to read that chapter for this one to make sense but they are both related to each other.

“What the?” Macy’s mouth fell open as she looked at the scene set out before her. Safe Space had been converted to a Winter Wonderland. The minimal workspaces were covered in everything from Christmas Lights, gingerbread houses, to one, even fashioned to look like Santa’s workshop. 

Macy knew Maggie had been putting in some extra hours organising this and when Harry had been about to launch into one of his ‘saving the world, balancing your private life’ speeches that he was so fond of she had delivered a sharp elbow into his side. A simple look telling him to let Maggie have this. She had been so happy, and the pride at what she was able to accomplish at Safe Space was clear and she deserved this.  


“Harry, Macy!” Maggie exclaimed as she came over to greet them, giving them both a hug as she balanced a swirling red and green cocktail in her hand. 

“I see you have adhered to the dress code.” Maggie turns to Mel and Kat in the corner near the Magick Shop, having quite clearly a deep and private conversation, one very absent of novelty Christmas sweaters, “Unlike some people.”

Macy gave a tight smile, “I may have needed some convincing.” She had swatted Harry’s hand away when he had tried to turn the flashing red reindeer nose on her garish sweater on again. Delivering a stern look, a warning to not try it again. 

“Is that why you guys are late?” Maggie asked while waving at another employee in greeting across the room missing the blush that instantly covered both Macy and Harry’s cheeks. 

“This is amazing Maggie, you got all this done today?” Macy replies, in a hope to divert her sister from the subject of her and Harry’s lateness.

“Well I had a little help but, yeah, it’s actually pretty cool, isn’t it?”

“Very atmospheric,” Harry adds, finally coming out of his stupor. 

“Thanks, Har.” Maggie looks over their shoulders, her face twisting into a grimace, before turning back to the couple. “Sorry, we have a little incident going down in Santa’s Grotto. I’ll be back soon.” She goes to step past them before turning back to Harry. 

“Oh and I got your and Macy’s request for the Karaoke Competition,” and with that, she dashes off, as Harry sheepishly turns to Macy. 

“Karaoke?” her eyebrows raised as she tugs on the fabric of her sweater, reminding herself that she loves Harry and that we do not throw fireballs at the ones we love. Even if they do sign you up for the Christmas Karaoke competition. 

“Surprise?” A small chuckle leaves his lips, quickly silenced when he sees the look in Macy’s eyes. His hand reaching for her as he pulls her closer. “I’m sorry Macy, really, if I have pushed too far-”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Let’s do it.” Macy says with a nod, her hands moving around to his back and deepening their embrace, as his hands move to her waist. “Together.” moving forward to press a kiss against his lips, before pulling back. “I am going to need a few of those cocktails though.”

“As my lady commands,” Harry replies, placing another kiss to her lips before he excuses himself to the bar. 

***

“Thank you, Jordan and Maggie for that rendition of Baby It’s Cold Outside. Phew, it is definitely not cold in here.” Swan announces as she ushers Maggie and Jordan off the stage. While Mel and Kat offer their applause, quite purposefully leaning into one another. 

Macy feels a warmth surging through her as she looks on at both her sisters, happy and satisfied and although they continue to save the world, risking their lives weekly she has faith that it will be okay, because it has to be. 

“Now we have Macy and Harry, ooh another duet, we are spoiled tonight, with Let It Snow.” 

There is applause from the crowd and Macy feels the butterflies starting to churn in her stomach, and she considers making a run for it, locking herself in the command centre. And then Harry is squeezing her hand, his warm eyes meeting hers and she allows him to guide her to the stage. As she stood hesitantly in front of the microphone stand deliberating whether she actually did have enough of those delightful cocktails. 

Harry wraps his arm around her, pulling her close, whispering in her ear, “I’m right here.” 

As the music starts. Harry takes the lead singing into the mic and although Macy knows his voice is good from hearing it in the shower in the morning, or while he sings to himself while making breakfast hearing it amplified is another thing. 

She quietly at first speaks into the mic, her voice quiet and a little off-key, but as she continues she can feel her confidence building, spotting Maggie in the crowd giving her two thumbs up and Mel’s warm smile. 

And by the time the final verse is sung, they are both singing at the top of their lungs, leaning into each other and the microphone, occasionally dissolving into giggles that will surely lose them points but Macy couldn’t care less. She was actually enjoying herself and when Swan came back onto the stage to move them on and introduce the new act, she couldn’t help herself. 

Her hands grasped onto the material of Harry’s sweater and she pulled his lips to hers, feeling him respond in kind, as his hands moved to her hair, hearing the crowd break into another applause at the display of the couple so clearly and utterly in love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all your kind comments and encouragements it's day 5 and still managing to keep up, we will see how we go once the weekend hits


	6. Snowball Fight

“Oh, you are dead Maggie,” Mel shouted from the other side of her car, as she managed to narrowly duck the next snowball that was thrown in her direction, followed by hushed laughter. 

She bent down, ducking behind the car, and gathering the snow in her hands, ignoring the way it started to seep through her gloves, intent on making sure the next person wearing a snowball on their face was one Maggie Vera. 

She took another look around the side of the vehicle, catching a hint of red behind the tree which was reminiscent of Maggie’s Christmas scarf she had been wearing that morning. She quickly made her way alongside the house, keeping low to the ground with two snowballs in each hand ready to let loose as soon as she got around the corner. 

What she didn’t expect was Macy to also be sneaking around the fence with her own armful of snowballs, one of which smacked Mel in the back causing her to drop two of her own snowballs as she shrieked at the cold giving away her position, as Maggie unleashes her onslaught. 

“Harry!” Mel shouts, and their Whitelighter appears in a flash in the midst of the Vera Vaughn snowball fight, just as a perfectly aimed snowball from Macy headed in Mel’s direction smacks him right in the face. 

“Oh Harry,” Macy says in shock, as Harry brushes the snow from his suit, adjusting his tie while clearing his throat. 

“I’m so sorry Harry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine Macy.” He says bending down, and gathering some snow in his hand, “although I will let you know, I am an excellent snowball fighter with over 50 years experience under my belt.” His hands open to reveal a perfectly shaped ball of snow, while the sisters look on, surprised that their usually prim and proper Whiteligher is not launching into a well-practised lecture. 

“And you girls have a 10 second head start,” a smile spreading across his face. Mel is the first to run, Maggie next returning to her hiding spot, while Macy shoots him a questioning look, to which he nods and she makes off in the other direction. 

And as the sun dips below the horizon and the sisters and their whitelighter are huddled up warming up in front of the fireplace, a mug of hot cocoa in each of their hands while munching on gingerbread fresh from the oven compliments of Macy. Mel is happy to be a part of this new family. 


	7. Slippery

“Oh, Harry,” Macy said as she hurried to the front door to catch a present that is about to fall from the very large stack their whitelighter is currently trying to manage to bring up the front steps into the house.

"Ah, thank you, Macy," his voice slightly muffled by the boxes resting precariously on his chin. She carefully takes a few more boxes off the top of the pile, careful not to disturb the delicate pile he has constructed.

"Couldn't you have just orbed these home?" Macy asked as she made her way back up the steps, Harry following closely behind.

"Sometimes it's nicer to do things the traditional way," he replies with a smile, and Macy gets it. Sure magic can sometimes make things easier but other times it's nice to do things normally, every once in a while. 

Macy makes her way to the Christmas tree in the lounge they all put up the night before under Maggie's careful instructions leading her to be labelled a Christmas Nazi by an exasperated Mel, while Macy and Harry looked on sharing a look, before laughing to themselves deciding not to get involved in that particular argument. 

Harry joined her, carefully placing each box under the tree. 

"I thought we said one present each."

"I don't believe I ever actually agreed to that."

Macy stood up admiring how nice everything looked reminding her of her own childhood Christmas, her Dad always going that extra effort at this time of the year.

Harry shot her a sheepish look, "There's a, um, few more in the car."

Macy rolls her eyes, "Let's go get them. Really Harry, do you have no restraint?" She teases lightly pushing him out the front door.

He turns back to answer her, but as his foot hits the step, the snow loosens underneath and he starts to fall backwards. 

Macy reaches out to stop him, managing to grab a handful of his coat before they both crash down on the front steps in a tangle of flailing limbs and not so dignified shrieks.

Macy lands directly on top of Harry, and as she tries to untangle herself and push her self up her hand slips in the snow and she is brought down again, his hands reaching up to steady her.

"It's a little slippery out here," he chuckles softly as Macy finds herself laughing with him. Until she is suddenly all too aware of just how close they are, how in steadying her his hands are locked onto her hips, while her hands are braced against his chest.

It brings all those feelings to the surface, the ones she has been trying to keep buried knowing just how inappropriate it is for her to think of their advisor in this way. 

Just how much she wants him to close the distance between them and press his lips against hers.

But instead, she pushes herself up again, concentrating on the careful placement of her hands as she does so, careful not to slip again, as his hands loosen around her hips committing to memory the way they feel for later reference when she is alone with her thoughts and she permits herself to imagine.

She bends down to offer her hand to him, which he eagerly takes as she holds onto the post to steady herself, noticing how the snow has started to seep into his clothes.

"We should probably get you inside and warmed up, whitelighters are still susceptible to colds I'm guessing?"

"Unfortunately," He brushed the snow from his back and backside, Macy's eyes lingering longer than they should, mentally scolding herself for being so obvious. “There are still the rest of the presents.”

“I’ll get them,” she offers, “as longs as there are not too many more?” She gives him a look and he shakes his head. 

“Just a couple more, promise.”

“Then I will manage.” And before he can warn her about being careful, “I’ll be careful.” 

He gives a nod, and slightly hobbles back into the home, his hand placed on his lower back rubbing small circles, and the brief thought of her offering to massage his sore spots crosses her mind before she pushes it away. 

_ ‘For God’s sake Macy, get this under control.’  _ She looks into the boot, seeing two final presents sitting there, shaking her head at his inability to get just one present. Her curiosity getting the best of her as she looks at the tag and sees her own name in Harry’s handwriting. Her finger tracing over the lettering, her attention catching on one particular word written there that has her heart caught in her throat. 

_ Dearest Macy,  _

_ Merry Christmas.  _

_ Love, Harry _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have another chapter coming up later today, but man it is tough writing some fluff when your ship has just been turned on it's head. But I'm determined to push on and denial can be a wonderful thing. 😉


	8. Ice Skating

“Yes that’s it, keep holding my hands, you’ve got this,” Harry spoke to the little girl in such a calming manner, never letting go of her tiny little hands as they made their way slowly out onto the ice. 

Macy could remember the first one on one training session they ever had. Him urging her to relax more, to just feel her power surging within her rather than forcing it to show itself. His voice calm and gentle. Until she was finally able to throw things around the room with ease. Using her powers becoming as natural as breathing. 

And as he gently pulled Emily across the ice, he could hear the same tone. Gentle and reassuring, despite the way the little girl was shaking, he held her steady. 

The cold air blew past her body and she pulled her coat tighter around her body, trying to keep the chill out. A moment of pride washing over her as she saw that he was now holding her by just the one hand, as her feet began to move along the ice of her own intention. Small movements, barely a shuffle really, but the praise he showered upon her, brought a broad grin to their daughter’s face. 

“Look, mummy,” she shouted from her place on the ice, Macy giving a wave from the park bench followed by a thumbs up, made more difficult by her thick gloves. She could hear the gentle encouragements from Harry, travelling across the lake. 

“A little wider, sweetheart.”

“Look at you, take another step.” 

“I’m going to let go now, okay.” Macy felt the little hitch in her breath as she watched on anxiously, as Harry’s hand let go of Emily’s and her arms outstretched to the sides of her. The momentum of her last step, propelling her forward. The little shout of delight that left her lips echoed around the small lake. 

Macy rose to her feet, clapping as she watched on, Harry standing further back now, a smile lighting up his face, for the first time turning back to Macy, and he could see all the love he had for her in that one look before the vision faded away and she found herself back in the command centre. 

“Did it work? Did you see anything?” Maggie asked, her hand still clutched around Macy's while a branch with black amber seeping staining her skin was clutched in the other, “Did you see where Harry is?”

Macy shook her head, the visions that she had seen in her mind still reverberating within her. It wasn’t just what she had seen, but what she had felt. Happiness, contentment, peace.

“I saw,” she paused wondering how she could even explain it, “something else.” 

Macy got up from her chair, moving to the command centre, bracing herself against the console as her eyes scanned the map with a renewed sense of desperation to find their missing whitelighter.

“We need to find him.”


	9. Mulled Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during season one, as Harry has not yet moved into the manor.

"It would be a great social faux pax to refuse the invitation from the satyrs," Harry said, as he stood in front of the stove, and Macy thought how hard it was to take him seriously when he was wearing his apron, and an oven mitt covering one hand.

"Can't we just send like a gift basket or something?" Maggie suggested. 

"The Midsummer’s Feast is a very important part of their culture, to be invited to it, as an outsider is a great honour," Harry said, pointing his spatula at the three sisters for effect. 

"You remember last time right?" Macy piped up, the memory of the hangover when they last ‘shared a drink’ with Leo still fresh in her mind. 

"How can I forget?" Mel groaned. 

“If we do not accept the Saytrs will find it a great insult, which could severely damage our relationship with the Woodfolk community as a whole.” Harry pressed on.

“Fine,” Mel relented, “we’ll go. But I am enforcing a strict two-drink limit on everyone.”

Maggie gave a snort, “Two drinks? Please.”

Mel put on her what Macy had come to recognise as her ‘big sister’ face as she turned towards Maggie, “Two drinks,” she repeated holding up two fingers for emphasis. 

“Fine,” Maggie sighed, grabbing her books from the kitchen counter and the packed breakfast that Harry held out to her, “but I’m not the lightweight you need to worry about around here.” Her head nodding towards Harry.

As it turned out Maggie was right. 

The two drink limit had worked for a while, with the sisters and Harry adhering to it under the ever-watchful gaze of Mel. That was until one of the Satyrs questioned Harry’s ability to ‘keep up’ as it was. 

Which led to a slightly inebriated whitelighter leaning heavily on Macy as she attempted to assist him into the elevator that led to his condo, while Maggie and Mel had decided to stay at the gathering on Macy’s insistence that she would be fine to get Harry home safe. 

Harry had insisted that he could simply ‘orb’ home however after a few flashes and him ending up only on the other side of the room with a wobble, it had been decided that the best option for Harry to get home would instead be an Uber. 

Macy had managed to bundle him into the Uber without much issue, however, his navigation to his home was a little more testing. 

“You know, I don’t think I have ever actually used the front door,” he said with a laugh, as he fished around his pockets, pushing against Macy in the confined back seat as he did so. 

“Ah-ha,” he announced proudly as he produced a house key from his back pocket, “thought we might need to try and go through a window.”

Thankfully that hadn’t been the case especially considering he was on the sixth floor. He had tried to get the key into the door several times before Macy gently put her hand over his steadying him as he managed to get the key in the lock, turning and giving her a look of success. 

Macy turned the handle and they both stumbled into his apartment. Macy had always wondered what it looked like inside. There was still so much of their adviser that they didn’t know, her eyes looking around for any clues about Harry’s life. 

But it was curiously bare. A few pieces of artwork, and empty fruit bowl on the counter, an immaculate kitchen had Macy questioning whether Harry did actually have anything outside of his job and his role as their whitelighter. 

Harry swayed again as he moved forward and Macy caught him by the arm, pulling him back towards her and steadying him with her own body. 

“Thank you Macy, it seems I may have overdone it with the mulled wine,” he explained as she continued to move them both slowly across the lounge to what she hoped was a bedroom. 

The bed was perfectly made, and Macy stifled a giggle as she imagined Harry ironing his sheets on his bed, making sure everything was just so. The pristine sheets did not remain so for long as Harry unceremoniously flopped onto the bed, almost taking Macy with him. 

“Ooops,” he murmured into the bed before he rolled onto his back looking up at her, “you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 

She raised her thumb and forefinger up, leaving a little gap between them, “only a little.”

He groaned before not so delicately moving around the bed, while Macy pulled down his duvet, indicating for him to get underneath, before pulling it up to his chin. 

“I’m going to get you some water,” she said as she pulled back, his hand moving to her wrist stopping her halfway. 

“Thank you, Macy, for taking care of me.” 

“No problem Harry, you always take care of us.” 

His thumb brushed against the inside of her wrist and her breath hitched seeing something in his eyes, rimmed with red, that has her rushing out of the room. Her head spinning as she moves to the cupboards searching for a glass before filling it with water from the sink. 

She hesitated at the sink, staring at the water as it fills the cup with water before overflowing. She must have imagined it, maybe she had a little too much of the mulled wine herself because Harry would never. Not for her. 

She turned off the water, pouring some of the water from the cup into the sink before she returns to the bedroom. At the bedside she notices how Harry’s breathing has levelled, his eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. 

She placed the cup on the nightstand and looks down at their Whitelighter so peaceful, as she brushes the hair of his forehead, thinking to herself what an awful headache he is sure to have in the morning. 

And how much Maggie was going to tease him for it. 


	10. Pine Tree

Harry looked up from the books scattered around the attic, his eyes drifting to the small pine tree that sat in the corner. Macy had brought it up the other day. Insisting that the attic needed a touch of Christmas. 

She had then brought a box of decorations, some that she had managed to squirrel away while Maggie had been focused on decorating the big grand tree in the lounge. He had watched her while she delicately draped the tinsel, standing back to make sure the placement was just right, before she moved onto the baubles. Harry smiling as he thought of just how much she looked like Maggie, the intense concentration and love of all things Christmas. 

“Just don’t tell Maggie,” she had told him, as she placed the star on top, “she’s very particular about the Christmas tree.” 

He had given a chuckle and given her a conspiratorial wink. 

He sighed as he looked back at the text in front of him, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling no closer to any answers than he had an hour ago. 

He was relieved to hear the quiet knock on the door, watching it as it slowly opened Macy’s head popping around the corner, and entering when he gave a nod of greeting. 

She set down the tray she was carrying on the table, and the aroma of hot chocolate hit him instantly and he gave a deep breath, allowing the sweet aroma to fill his nostrils and he could practically taste it on his tongue. 

“I thought you deserved a break,” she tells him placing one of the mugs into his eager hands. He cradles the mug in his hand the warmth seeping into his hands and he can’t stop the smile spreading over his lips. 

“Any closer?” she asks, picking up her own cup. 

He takes a quick sip before answering, the chocolate sweet and rich, “Unfortunately not.” 

“Would you mind it I just sat here for a while?” she asks, and he gives an eager nod. She places a hand on his shoulder as she moves over to the seat near the window, near the tree, bring her knees up to her chest as she looks out the window. 

Harry should be concentrating on the books in front of him, but he can’t help but stop for a moment and take in the sight of her. The way the sun dampened by the snow hits her skin, the small smile on her lips and the tree beside her.

And he thinks to himself for just a moment of how he would wish for this every Christmas for the rest of his life. 


	11. Heaven's Vice Christmas Special (Christmas Movie Marathon)

Macy snuggled further into the couch taking another of her choc chip shortbread cookies from the tray that was piled up in front of her, and a sip of her cocoa. This was her happy place. She had thought about accompanying Mel and Maggie to the festival with the pixies, but the magical world had been busy and she needed to recharge her batteries in the best way she knew how. 

With cookies, hot cocoa and the Heavens Vice Christmas Special. 

She took a bite of the buttery cookie as Levi faced off against a demonic Santa on her laptop screen, the smile widening on her face as she said the lines in her head before they were spoken on screen. 

“Macy Vaughn, what are you doing?” Macy jumped quickly turned around to see Harry had orbed into the attic behind her. 

She stopped mid-bite of her shortbread cookie, crumbs falling to her sweater as she quickly pressed pause on her laptop. 

“Harry?!” she exclaimed, her mouth still half full as she quickly tried to chew and swallow the bite in her mouth. 

“Macy Vaughn,” Harry repeated, coming round to the other side of the couch, shaking his head as he did so, “Are you watching the Heavens Vice Christmas episode? Without me?”

Macy looked up at him guiltily as she finally managed to swallow, “I didn’t think you would want to.” 

Harry takes the seat next to her, taking a cookie from the tray, making himself comfortable.

“Miss what is possibly the worst thing to ever grace a television screen? Never.”

“It is not that bad,” Macy says, crossing her arms across her chest a pout forming on her lips. 

“I’m teasing,” he says, taking another bite, and she manages a smile as the crumbs cover his collar, she can’t help reaching up to brush them off gently with her fingers. Her cheeks reddening at how easily it comes to her. These little domestic touches. 

“I know.” She grabs another two cookies from the tray, handing one to Harry as she keeps one for herself, before pressing play on the laptop and leaning back into the couch, “I thought you might be joining Mel and Maggie with the pixies,” she whispers, looking up at him. 

“I’d rather be here.” He moves his hand over to hers, interlacing his fingers with hers as she allows herself to lean against him, acutely aware of how new this all still is. Her and Harry, but also how right and natural it feels. 

“With you.” He murmurs into her hair, and Macy can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. 

Turns out her safe space now consists of cookies, hot cocoa, the Heavens Vice Christmas Special and Harry Greenwood. 


	12. Mistletoe

It had been a busy day at the Wicca Shop, Mel was still trying to get her head around the workings of the store based on the notes that Kat had left behind for her. She was still intently concentrating on bookkeeping logs when she walked head-on into a ladder that had been placed right at the stairway leading down to the command centre. 

“Damn it,” she swore as she clutched her head, as the throbbing intensified. She squinted in pain as she saw the legs of her sister Maggie coming quickly down the stairs. 

“Oh my gosh, sorry Mel.” Maggie put her arm around her sister guiding her to the chair at the console of the command centre. 

Mel winced as she brought her hands down, opening her eyes slowly as the throbbing pain began to subside. 

Maggie gave her an apologetic smile. 

“What on earth is a ladder doing in the middle of the command centre anyway?” Mel grimaced as she lightly touched her forehead, wondering whether she was going to wake up in the morning with a large bump. 

As she looked around the command centre and it didn’t hurt to open her eyes she noticed that the ladder in the middle of the entry way wasn’t the only thing that was different. 

It seemed that Maggie had had a busy morning hanging sprigs of mistletoe on every place within the room that she could have reached with the assistance of a ladder. 

  
  


Sprigs of the plant were spotted all over the centre, seemingly concentrated in entryways, the library and the makeshift potion-making area and lab that Macy had set up only weeks before. 

“Maggie, what are you doing?” Mel asked, while Maggie shrugged her shoulders. 

“I’m just making the place a bit more festive.”

“No, no, no.” Mel said shaking her head and pointing to her sister, “You are up to something.” She levelled her eyes at Maggie, who pursed her lips for a moment, staring back at her before she let out a groan.

“I can’t take it anymore Mel. Those two dancing around each other is driving me insane,” she blurted out, her body relaxing as soon as the words left her mouth. 

“They are still working through things, Maggie.” Things had been tense in the house of late and Mel had missed those moments when they would sit around the breakfast table together sharing the meal that Harry had cooked. But for the last few weeks, it had been awkward hellos and goodbyes between their whitelighter and their older sister.   


“You mean after Macy caught Harry locking lips with that demon succubus.” Maggie spat out. Clearly still not over the inevitable betrayal that had been Abigael Caine. 

“Yes, mainly.” Mel agreed. 

“Well, I guess, I just. I want them to be happy Mel. Both of them.” 

Mel smiled at her sister, ever the romantic, she put her arm around her pulling her into a hug, “I know Maggie. I do too.”

“But I should probably stop trying to force it?” 

“It’ll happen, Maggie, if it’s meant to,” Mel said, giving her sister a squeeze. She believed in a lot of things now, things like fate and magic. If Harry and Macy were meant to be together they would find a way to make it back to each other. 

“Okay,” Maggie said sighing, pulling away from Mel, “I’ll get them down. I may need some help.” Mel rolled her eyes, imagining that this was going to take the rest of the night. 

* * *

Mel and Maggie entered the command centre the next morning still exhausted from the hours of retrieving all of Maggie’s mistletoe from around the command centre, and later as Maggie had admitted around the Vera Manor as well. 

Mel was about to ask Maggie about whether she was going for another training session with Jordan when she saw something in the library that stopped her in her tracks. She jutted out her arm to stop Maggie from proceeding any further. 

Harry and Macy were down in the library below, wrapped in each other's arms, lips pressed against one another's, oblivious to the audience that had just walked in above them. 

“Maggie, I thought we took down all the mistletoe,” Mel whispered to her sister who stood at the top of the stairs.

“We did,” Maggie answered in a hushed whisper. Mel turned to see her sister barely able to contain her excitement. Knowing that she had to get her out of there before she drew attention to them both. 

“Come on you,” Mel said, linking her arm with her sister’s pulling her back to the entrance. Happy that fate had finally given Harry and her sister a break. 


	13. Long Scarf

“Okay, your turn Harry.” Maggie handed him the wrapped present from underneath the tree. 

“Thank you Maggie.” He turned the gift over in his hands as Macy watched on eagerly. She had stood in the store agonizing over the decision for longer than she would like to admit. She wanted to get Harry something personal but not too personal. 

She had even texted Maggie for assistance, knowing that her sister would inevitably quiz her on why this decision was so important. But desperate times...

She thought of what she would usually get her professors when she was in grad school, a present as a gesture of her appreciation for the support that they had given her during the year. 

But then again Harry wasn’t just some ‘advisor’. He was a member of the family. So the gift that was needed was something more personal. She had stopped at the cologne counter, just briefly, before deciding that that was something that couples would get each other. And her and Harry were not a couple. Which had led to thoughts about what cologne he did wear, spiralling into memories when he had held her close enough that she could smell it. Just faintly something pine and woody, maybe cinnamon?

Anyway. 

They were friends. And she needed something that said friends. 

Thankfully Maggie had been only too happy to point Macy in the right direction and with a little helpful prompting from her younger sister they had settled on what Maggie assured her was the perfect gift. 

She held her breath, as Harry read the little card attached with a gold coloured ribbon. 

_ ‘Dear Harry, Merry Christmas, Love Always, Macy’ _

She had even agonised what to write on the card. She had written Love Macy on Maggie’s and Mel’s cards. And if Harry was just as much part of the family as everyone else there should be no problem writing Love on there. 

And yet her pen had hesitated, hovering above the paper as she thought about what that could mean. What he might read into it. 

It was only when Maggie had concurred that she was putting Love on her card that Macy felt comfortable enough to place her pen against the paper and write ‘that’ word. 

The Always had just seemed to flow from her pen.

His fingers gingerly pulled at the wrapping and Macy could see Maggie shifting in her seat, eager for Harry to hurry up. She had been a lot less gentle with her presents, tearing at the paper to see what was inside. Mel commenting that absolutely nothing had changed since they were children, while Maggie stuck out her tongue in response. 

Macy was anxious too, sitting forward in her seat, her eyes flitting from the present in his hands to his eyes as the paper was finally removed. 

A long grey and burgundy scarf was revealed, unfurling itself as Harry removed it from the wrapping holding it in his hands. Macy’s eyes returning to his face to see that he was smiling, a pressure relieved from her chest as she settled back in her chair. 

Harry wrapped it around his neck, and she noted how it went with his festive sweater. 

“It’s perfect, Macy, thank you.” He reached over from his seat to take her hand in his giving it a squeeze, which only made the pressure return to her chest. 

“I just thought you lost yours when that Basilisk burnt it, and you know the weather is pretty cold this time of year, and you are always walking over to the campus and-”

“I love it, Macy,” Harry reassured her again, another gentle squeeze of her hand, stopping her mid-rant, and she took a deep breath, holding it in for a moment before smiling back at Harry. 

“Okay more presents,” Maggie announced loudly as she scrambled back over to the tree, while Macy snuck another look at Harry and his brand new scarf admiring the way it looked on him.   


She was going to take Maggie with her every time she went Christmas shopping from now on. 


	14. Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this one got away from me a little. 
> 
> It takes place after 2x02, where Harry and Macy have their heart to heart, but before Macy finds Abigael. (And that whole saga begins...)

“I’m fine, really,” Macy insisted as she tried to get up from her bed, for what must have been the fifth time, managing to balance momentarily on her arms, before the weight was too much and she collapsed onto the pile of pillows that Maggie had stacked behind her. 

“You are going nowhere,” Mel told her, and Macy could tell from her tone that she was getting the ‘big sister’ treatment that Maggie had spoken about so often. “You need to rest.”

“But the board,” Macy started again, trying to will her body to cooperate with her and allow her to at least sit up to argue. 

“Maggie and I will look after the board,” Mel assured her, reaching up to press the back of her hand against her forehead, frowning as she did so. “You still have a temperature.” 

She moved across the room, to an assortment of bottles that she had brought with her to Macy’s room. Macy eyed them suspiciously. As good as Mel’s potion-making had gotten over the last few months, there were still the occasional unintended side effects and Macy was not keen to ingest one of these slip-ups. 

“Maybe I should just take regular Western Medicine at the moment,” Macy said, as Mel continued to examine the bottles, taking one in her hand as she returned to Macy’s bed. 

“This should work,” Mel said as she tipped the bottle upside down to mix up its contents. 

Macy tried to edge away from Mel in her bed, but simply didn’t have the energy, “What is it?”

“A simple tonic, Mandrake, Hyacinth, and Morning Dew,” Mel rattled off the ingredients which made Macy feel a little better that there was nothing too unusual in there, “then a simple incantation and we are done.”

Macy pursed her lips, wondering whether she should refuse, but Mel really had gotten better at her potions and if it did make her better quicker, she could get back into the fight. Her family would not be defenseless without her. She could protect them better, than being here confined to her bed. 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Mel responded with a broad smile, Macy a little wary about how excited Mel was to experiment on her, then again she knew the draw of the unexplored and the rush of experimentation and discovery herself. 

“Here,” Mel handed her the small bottle, the cork removed, “you drink as I say the incantation, on three.” Macy went to raise the bottle to her nose, but Mel’s hand on her forearm stopped her. 

“I wouldn’t smell it.”

_‘Great,_ ’ Macy thought in her head, wondering why their potions never actually tasted of anything good, or even palatable. 

“One, Two, Three.” Mel counted and Macy started to drink, the liquid burning her tongue as she forced herself to swallow. 

“Sanationem corporis sanitatem mentis sa mali dimitte me.” Mel chanted, as Macy finished the last of the potion handing Mel back to the bottle before she fell back into her pillows. Her head resting gently as Mel examined her. 

“Do you feel any different?”

Macy shook her head, as Mel pressed her hand against her forehead again. 

“Maybe a little cooler, it probably takes some time to take effect.”

Macy nodded as she closed her eyes. She continued to struggle to breath through her nose, her mouth opening slightly so she was still able to breathe.

“I can get Harry to come and stay with you.”

Macy’s eyes opened, “No.”

Mel’s brow furrowed in confusion and Macy busied herself playing with the edge of her duvet, intent on not meeting Mel’s eyes. 

“I mean he’s busy with the book and-”

“I still think he should be here with you Macy. Just in case.”

Macy nodded, knowing that Mel was right. At the end of the day whatever had happened between her and Harry, he was still their whitelighter and if she did get worse he was the one who actually had healing powers. And the one who seemed to fix Mel’s spells when they went a little sideways. 

“Harry,” Mel shouted and their whitelighter appeared instantly in a blast of light. 

“Mel, what can I?” His eyes turned to Macy and he was by her bedside in an instant, “Oh Macy, what happened?”

“I’ve got the flu,” Macy said sadly, a little ashamed that a common human non-magical illness had secured her to her bed. 

“Okay, I’ll take head over to the command centre, to stay with Maggie, just look after her okay?” Mel said, placing her hand on Harry’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before she left the room. 

Harry met Macy’s eyes again as he moved to her bed, sitting gingerly on the edge. He had been more distance in the last week, so had she she supposed. Ever since she had revealed to him that the demon with his face appeared in her dreams, and he had told her the truth, it should have brought them back together, but instead, it seemed to have driven a wedge further between them. 

“You’re okay?” he asked, and Macy gave a nod before relaxing back in her bed. 

“Yeah,” she took a deep breath, a little feeling of disappointment that Mel’s potion hadn’t taken any effect. She was confined to her room, her bed, by a common virus. Unable to assist the other witches out there, her family, completely useless. 

“You’re not useless,” Harry said, placing a hand on her covered knee, giving her a gentle squeeze. 

Macy shot him a look, and Harry removed his hand, a look of regret crossing his face like he had gone too far crossed a line that he shouldn't. A line that he had created for himself.

“I didn’t say that,” Macy said, narrowing her eyes. 

“Yes, you did.” Harry asserted. 

“I- I thought it.” She had thought it right. She couldn’t remember saying it. She would never actually say those things out loud. 

“Mel’s spell,” they both said in unison, as Macy fell back against her bed in defeat. It would figure that she would get one of Mel’s not quite right spells.

“What did she use?”

Macy rattled off the ingredients and the small parts of the incantation that she could remember. While Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, giving a groan that Macy was all too familiar with. It was the sound he made when one of his charges had made a mistake. 

_‘Unbelievable, if she has been using banned spells again I swear I’ll-’_

“It’s not her fault Harry, she was trying to help.” Macy crossed her arms in front of her. 

_‘I mean I know most of these ‘spells’ go a little wrong but-’_

“See you’re thinking about it too.” He says with an accusatory finger pointed at her. 

“I was.” Macy’s eyes widened at the realisation that if Harry could hear her thoughts than he could- 

_‘Calm streams, calm streams, calm streams.’_

“She cast a healing spell, it clears out toxins to heal the physical ailment sure, but it also removes psychic blocks to help heal the mind, which for your normal human is probably okay but when you are dealing with magical beings.”

“So you can hear my thoughts-”

“And you can hear mine.”

_‘I’m going to kill Mel.’_

“I don’t think that would help Macy.” Harry's eyes soften as Macy turns away, “Sorry. There’s no way to stop it.”

“It’s permanent,” Macy almost shrieks.

_‘I’m going to be picturing calm streams forever.’_

“No, I mean I can’t stop myself from hearing what you’re thinking any more than you can stop hearing mine. The spell will get rid of that flu. Just until it does, the side effects will remain.”

_‘Great,’_

Macy slumped back in her bed, noticing that her nose did feel a little less stuffy in that she could actually breathe through it again. 

“Maybe I should go,” Harry offered, getting up from her bed. 

_‘But I don’t want to.’_

_‘I don’t want you to.’_

Macy smiled at Harry as their thoughts collided, and Harry sat back down on the bed. It was true despite what she might reveal to him, she didn’t want him to leave. They had been here so many times before offering comfort to one another. 

Macy gave a loud sniff, as Harry reached to her bedside table grabbing the box of tissues and handing them to her. 

She took one, blowing her nose, putting it into the bin beside her bed as she took a deep breath in through her nose. Her eyes closed at the immediate relief. 

_‘God that feels good.’_

“You look better already,” Harry replied. 

_‘Although you always look good.’_

Macy’s eyes snapped to Harry’s and he looked away, knowing that she had heard him. He pulled at the collar of his shirt and Macy couldn’t help the blush that spread across her cheeks at his comment. 

“You still think that?” She asked, her hand reaching out to settle on his arm as he turned to face her. 

It had been a few weeks since the Source had taken her over and she had read his mind. He had told her to pretend she had never heard it and she had reluctantly agreed. It had been her invasion of his privacy, he should be the one to decide what happened next. 

But she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She had always known that Harry was handsome, that he was kind, generous and caring. But the snippet of knowledge that he thought of her as something more than a member of their makeshift family or his charge, had ignited something she didn’t know was there. 

Or she had just become incredibly practised at ignoring it. At storing away the feelings and emotions that didn’t agree with her world view of how things should be and a relationship with Harry, a crush on Harry was very much outside the realm of possibilities. 

But she felt it. Perhaps that was why the demon that visited her in her dreams used his face because he knew what she wanted, what she craved almost every day. 

Harry continued to stare at her, his eyes moving over her face as she gasped realising that her thoughts had drifted away from her and that her mind was very much still open. 

“You feel it too?” He asked, moving closer, his hand reaching up to cup her face, as she allowed herself to lean into it. 

_‘Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?’_

“I didn’t mean to,” she answered.

_‘With the assassin visiting me in my dreams, I didn’t want to complicate things.’_

_'I didn't want to be around as a constant reminder of your torturer, I couldn't bear to think that I could cause you harm.'_

“I didn’t want to lose my focus,” Macy looked up at him, "I needed to keep fighting. But I-"

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, out loud no longer a secret he kept in his head. 

“I know,” she said with a chuckle having being privy to his thoughts. 

“Right.” He nods as his thumb moves across her cheek, and Macy swears that she forgets how to breathe just for a moment. 

“You should probably keep your distance, wouldn’t want you to catch this.” 

“It’s okay, your sister has a useful spell for it.”

And before she could argue further he presses his lips against hers and her mind goes completely blank.


	15. Snow Angels

Macy flopped onto the freshly laid snow, hearing the crunch as she did so. The snow continued to fall from the sky landing on her cheeks. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the way it felt upon her skin, almost like a tickle, a finger ghosting across her cheek, over her nose, her lips. She couldn’t help but smile as she moved her arms from her sides, extending them out their full span before she closed them again. The snow shifting underneath her movements, bending to her will. 

Her legs moved next, in and out, in and out. The thick layers protecting her from the biting cold, but there was still enough of a chill that she could feel the coolness of the snow. A giggle built up in her chest and left her lips. 

In a world that had become so complex, so scary, so unpredictable it was good to be able to enjoy the simpler things. 

She opened her eyes to see Harry staring down at her, a slightly quizzical look on his face, his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, and how peculiar she must look dawns on her. A grown woman laying in the freezing snow, laughing to herself. 

“Snow Angels,” she replied simply, moving her limbs again in demonstration. 

There is a look that crosses his face as if he is searching for something within his own mind and Macy is reminded how they have been seeping through, the memories. He usually keeps them to himself, private but occasionally he will share them with the sisters, and Macy can see both a hint of sadness and happiness in his eyes as he does so. Reliving a happy event but mourning the loss of it at the same time. 

It is often the way she feels when Maggie and Mel bring out those old home movies of the time that they shared with their mother. The time after Macy was gone, and although she relishes the opportunity to see her mom, to learn more and more about her. To commit to memory the way she looks, the way she talks, the way she smiles, there is an unmistakable pain that comes with it. 

She knows he notices, the way his hand will fall over hers as she feels the tears start to well behind her eyes. As the light from the screen flickers over her face. He knows how it feels. The conflict within. 

“Do you want to try?” Macy asks, sitting up from her lying position, not wanting to push him too far. To gently offer him the opportunity to remember. 

He gives a nod, and she smiles in return. 

He gingerly kneels in the snow beside her, shifting his body weight as he lays back in the snow, “Is it always this cold?”

“Usually a thicker coat is advisable,” Macy replies as she lies back down in her place. 

She looks over at him, noticing the way he has closed his eyes, and the snow now falls on his face and she wonders if he feels the same kind of peace that she does. Whether this is something else that they share. 

“Now you just open your arms and legs, kind of like a sweeping motion.” 

He starts to move his arms and legs, separately at first until they start to move in synchronisation, his eyes still closed, a mist leaving his mouth, evidence of his deep breaths. 

“I used to do this with my mother,” he says quietly, “she would laugh at the way my arms and legs would move as if in opposition.” 

A smile graces his lips, his movements halted, as his arms are still outstretched, “I can hear her laugh like music on the wind. She doesn’t laugh much but when she does-” a tear escapes from behind his closed eyes and Macy reaches out for his hand. Intertwining her fingers warm from her pockets, with his, ice-cold from the snow. 

His eyes open, and he looks to her. A look of sadness and happiness at the same time, “Thank you, Macy.”

“Thank you for letting me in.”

“Always,” he replies, as he assists her to stand, an arm around her as they look down at the two angels in the snow separate but still joined together.


	16. Marshmallows

“Harry Greenwood, you take that back right now.” Maggie admonishes, her hands on her hips as she stares down their whitelighter. 

“They are an abomination,” Harry says simply shrugging his shoulders before pouring some more tea from his thermos into the accompanying lid, before raising the container to offer the rest of it to the others. Macy raising her cup instantly, handing it to Harry to pour while Maggie continued to fume from her position around the campfire. 

“Mel,” she turns to her sister, who had been busying herself with stoking the fire while the argument ensued, “say something.”

Mel shook her head, before making an excuse that she needed to get some more logs for the fire despite the large pile of logs next to her. Leaving Macy, Maggie and Harry around the campfire. Maggie grabs a marshmallow from the large bag, placing it on the stick her eyes never leaving Harry’s a clear challenge. 

Macy stifles a giggle at the pure absurdity of the whole argument, which had started as soon as Maggie pulled the supplies from her rucksack and Harry had told her in not so many words that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Do you want one too Macy, or are you on his side?” Maggie narrows her eyes at Harry, who gives a casual shrug while he sips on his tea. 

“Now don’t take this the wrong way Maggie but I have never actually had one,” Macy admits as she watches Maggie’s jaw drop. “But I’ll try one.” She adds quickly earning a triumphant smile from her younger sister. 

The intensity to which Maggie attends to making the sweet treat is admirable, the careful rotation of the marshmallow in the fire, close enough to the flames to melt in the heat but not close enough to burn. 

She balances the graham crackers on her thighs as she breaks off a segment of chocolate for each one, carefully positioning it, just right for the maximum amount of coverage. She tilts her head again as she pulls the marshmallows from the heat and places one on top of each cracker before quickly securing with another one, pulling the stick free from the marshmallow. 

She hands one to Harry first, who places his tea by his side while he examines the treat, the marshmallow oozing from the sides, melted chocolate squeezing out the sides when he applies gentle pressure. 

Macy takes hers from Maggie, who continues to watch them both with a level of intensity Macy thought was purely reserved for her work in the Sorority or at Safe Space. Harry takes a bite, his face giving nothing away, while Macy takes a bite of her own. 

It is a rich and perfect combination, the crunch of the cracker, the sickly sweetness of the marshmallow and the rich chocolate coating her tongue. She feels like she has just died and gone to heaven. 

Maggie notices, a smile spreading across her features, and then there is the groan of satisfaction that leaves Harry’s lips.

“Sorry I,” he starts before taking another bite, his attention diverted back to the Smore in between his fingers. 

“Clearly neither of you have had a Vera S’more. Family recipe.”

“It is very good,” Harry admits while he continues to chew, his hand covering his mouth as he does so. 

Macy manages to suppress her laugh as she continues to chew, a feeling of warmth coming over her. And she decides this must be what contentment feels like. 

“Never doubt me again Greenwood,” Maggie says with a pointing of her finger and Harry shakes his head. 

Maggie returns to the bag, pulling out another two marshmallows to make more, and Macy takes the opportunity to observe Harry, noticing the smudge of chocolate just in the corner of his mouth. 

He catches her, eyebrows raised in question and she points to the corner of her own mouth, and he brushes his lips with his thumb, missing the smudge each time. 

“Hold still,” Macy says as she leans over, her thumb brushing away the small amount of chocolate, her breath hitching at the realisation of the intimacy of her actions. Her hand pulling back, while Harry smiles back at her. 

“Thank you.” 

Macy swears his tone is lower now compared to the previous playful banter shared with Maggie and she is left wondering, and not for the first time, whether there is something further behind his words. 


	17. Family Visits

“This is crazy, right,” Macy asks Harry as she runs her fingers again over the words in the book uncovered under the Command Centre. A book that didn’t throw her across the room when she touched it, a book that had been hidden away just for her and her sisters. 

Marisol, with her powers of foresight, had known they would end up there eventually, it was fate. Everything that had happened had led them up to this point, to this book. 

“It would seem so,” Harry mused, turning the book over in his hands, to examine the cover again. Wondering whether they may have missed another translation, however, he was certain that the book did exactly what it said. 

It provided a connection, one to the other side, the place where only the dead can visit. Or those who have already crossed over and returned. 

“It feels unfair,” Macy mused as she sat back down in the chair. “That only we can cross over. I don’t know if I want that if Maggie and Mel can’t have it too.” 

“They gave you their blessing,” Harry reminded her, and Macy sighed, her hand running over her face. They hadn’t just given her their blessing to make contact, they had wholeheartedly encouraged her. They wanted her to have that which she couldn’t remember, couldn’t hold onto. That that had been taken away by magic could be restored and they wanted her to feel that love that they knew Marisol had for her. 

Harry had told her that he would be by her side, as he was these days. Ever since he had come into her room those months ago and told her the mistakes he had made, and how he wanted to make them right. He promised to never leave her side and she had believed him without any doubt. 

Macy brushed her hands over her dress, before nodding towards Harry, “Okay, let’s do this before I lose my nerve.” 

Harry’s hand fell over hers, unfurling her fingers and intertwining them with his own instead. 

“Thank you,” she tells him, before she leans in, her weight pressed against his arm before they both read out the incantation and feel their bodies pulled towards an unseen force. Before everything goes dark. 

Macy’s hand tightens around his as she feels a panic rising up in her that they have made a mistake, before she hears the unmistakable voice of her mother, “Macy.” 

She feels arms wrap around her, pulling her into a warm embrace that feels long overdue. She can’t stop the sobs that overcome her body, as the embrace grows tighter and she never wants to be let go. 

“My sweet, smart girl,” Marisol whispers into her hair and Macy opens her eyes to see that the room is now brightly lit, the source of the light unknown, only that it is bright and warm at the same time. 

Marisol turns to Harry, whose hand Macy doesn’t even remember letting go of, who offers a small smile. 

“Thank you, Harry, for protecting my girls.” 

“Of course. Although I must say most of the time it seems the other way around,” he adds with a chuckle. 

“Yes, sometimes.” Marisol nods, before she takes Macy’s face in her hands, her thumbs tracing over her cheeks as if memorising it before it is lost again. 

“I have missed you so much, and I wish there was more time, but, there is something coming.” She turns back to Harry, “something big.”


	18. Gingerbread

“Harry!,” Macy called out, into the empty space around her. Infusing her voice with as much purpose as she can muster. A sigh of relief when he materialises in a flash of light in front of her. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of danger. His body relaxing when he finds Macy alone. 

“Harry,” Macy repeats, frozen to her spot in the messy kitchen. Filled with bowls of batter, flour covering her top, almost certainly on her face, her hands still and unmoving. 

“Macy,” Harry moves closer, stepping around the kitchen bench, his eyes still scanning the room, “Is everything okay? I heard your call and-”

“I’m stuck,” Macy states her eyes indicating to the construction in front of her. Four gingerbread walls barely held together by blobs of icing, but their main source of support coming from Macy’s hands at either side holding it all together. 

“I finally have the perfect placement, but-” she pulled one hand away from the house and it all started to wobble, “and the icing is over there.” She pointed with her head to the tube of icing that was on the other side of the bench. 

“I thought that you were in danger,” Harry replies his body relaxing as he grabs the icing from the other side of the bench making his way to stand beside her. 

“Well, I’m in danger of this whole thing collapsing on itself,” Macy reasoned quietly, realising that she had indeed called their whitelighter who was sworn to protect them against evil and demons to their house to help her with baking. 

A sense of guilt in the pit of her stomach that she hadn’t even thought about whether Harry might have been busy, that he wasn’t just sat at his apartment waiting for them to call on him. 

“I tried to do it with my powers but, well,” She nods her head in the direction of a very sad, and crumpled looking gingerbread house. Her first attempt which she had managed to hold together with her mind briefly while she piped the icing, until her grip had loosened and the whole thing had flown, quite comically, across the room. 

She was usually so intuned with her powers, but they had been a little on the blink lately, and Macy put it down to stress. She had also missed a number of training sessions with Harry, because of work commitments mainly, but also there was something else. 

Something she didn’t feel ready to even admit to herself yet. 

And he didn’t push her, simply nodded and arranging another time. Macy was almost certain that they continued to tread lightly around her since the reveal of her ‘Ebi’. And she was concerned as well. Mama Rosa had been scared of her, and that was probably with good reason. 

“Well, lucky for you Macy I am an expert at holding things,” he jokes, “not so much with icing, though,” he adds, examining the icing bag in his hand. 

“I can do that,” Macy replies quickly, halting his motions before he can squeeze the icing out across his shirt. 

“Just if you can.” She looks down at the house, how her hands are carefully holding all four sides together and how he could get in a position to do the same when she feels him move behind her. 

Placing the icing bag, next to her, within her reach, as his arms move around her, his hands moving over her own, as his fingers splay across to touch the gingerbread just as delicately yet firmly as she is. 

She can feel his breath against her ear, as he looks over her shoulder to ensure that he has the correct placement. 

Macy is bombarded everything that is uniquely Harry Greenwood. The warmth of his chest pressed up against her back, the way he smells of cinnamon and oak and how she has never noticed his cologne before. 

Except that she has. 

If she just turned her head just ever so slightly, their lips would be only inches apart, how easy it would be to just-

“I’ve got it,” he whispers, “the house, if you wanted to.”

Macy gives a quick nod, the breath she was holding released before she lets her hands go, her movement slight restricted by the arms around her and the little space she occupies between the man behind her and the kitchen bench. She manages to grab the icing bag, hand only slightly shaking as she pipes the icing into the joins of the house. 

He doesn’t say anything while she does so, keeping perfectly quiet to allow her to concentrate and all she can hear from him are his deep breaths, and the feeling of his breath ghosting across her skin every time he exhales. 

Her mind betraying her again as images of his chin dipping lower, and the softness of his lips brushing against her bare shoulder, perhaps even the barest hint of teeth, before his tongue would soothe her skin. 

“All done,” she announces as she quickly puts down the icing bag to the side and congratulates herself on a job well done, despite the very real distraction of her very attractive advisor leaning into her body as he maintains his hands' position on the house. 

“Just, ah, hold it a little longer, until the icing sets.” 

“Okay,” he replies, voice low in a whisper, that reverberates from her ear down her spine and she needs to escape now before her body betrays her any further and she feels the temptation to cross a line she knows she shouldn’t. 

“I’m just going to,” she turns around, deliberating as to whether she could duck down and move underneath his arms, without colliding with him, the bench, or letting him loose his placement. 

When she comes face to face with him she isn’t sure what to think. His pupils dilated, a red blush across his cheeks and his breaths are still deep and deliberate. Her eyes flit to his lips. 

Before she can speak, to question further the tension that has arisen in the air between them, he is surging forward, pressing his lips against hers. A hand coming up to cup her cheek before his body pushes fully against her, and she feels the kitchen bench digging in behind her. 

Her hands move to his hair, pulling and tugging him closer as his hands move down her sides, to rest on her hips, until her teeth nip at his bottom lip and his hands cup her ass, pulling her against him before resting her onto the bench, while her legs wrap around his torso. She thinks she hears a crack, something giving away underneath her, but then his lips move to her neck and all rational thought is gone. Instead, all she can focus on is eliminating as much space between them as she can. She needs to feel him pressed against her, needs his hands in her hair, against her waist, fingers digging into her hips. 

She needs all of it. 

Her lips want to kiss, nip and lavish every part of him that is bare to her and then some. Cataloguing every groan that left his lips for future reference and exploitation. The way he almost growls against her lips when her fingers scratched down the fabric of the back of his shirt. 

“Macy,” he whispered along the column of her throat, her eyes closing at the sound of him saying her name and just how different it could sound. “The house.” 

Her eyes snapped open as she looked behind her, to see a barely standing gingerbread house, icing smeared everywhere, and two of the four walls crushed in, the other two barely standing. 

“Ooops,” a laugh leaves her lips, as Harry reaches behind her back to snap a piece of the intact walls off, taking a bite and chewing it thoughtfully. Macy’s mind immediately wondering if he would taste of ginger with a hint of sweetness when she kissed him again, as she was most certainly was. 

“Perfect.”

And then he kisses her again and the final walls come tumbling down. 


	19. Apricity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning:  
> This one is most certainly not fluff.  
> Mention of miscarriage.

TRIGGER WARNING - Mention of miscarriage. 

Harry feels the sun hit his face, eyes closing at the brightness of it reflected against the snow. He pulls his scarf tighter around his neck, worn every winter since the day he opened it, knowing that it came from her. That it was special. 

He spots her on the park bench, near the lake. 

He walks over, sitting down next to her. 

“I thought I might find you here,” he tells her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her close. This has always been the place she comes to when something is troubling her. 

In Autumn when the maple trees leaves are red and orange and she will often have a fallen leaf in her hand, her fingers tracing over the unique patterns splayed across it. Before holding it up by the stem and letting the wind catch and carry it away. 

In Summer, when the grass is green and the water is clear and still. Sometimes gathering pebbles from the ground to skim across the water’s surface seeing just how many bounces are possible before the stone inevitable sinks below the surface. 

In Spring, when a graceful swan ushers her babies down to the water, carefully guarding them against the world, but allowing them enough space to be independent. Children with their own mothers, laughing and playing in the new flowers that cover the ground. The joy of new life almost infectious.  


And now, when the ground is covered in snow, the lake is frozen, and the wind is brutal and cold. 

“I’m sorry, Macy.” He pulls her into his body and she snuggles closer, her face turning into his chest, safe from the cold as the tears start to fall. 

Her hand still clutched against her stomach where a new life was growing. 

A life now lost. 

And as he clutches her tighter, his body absorbing the sobs as they rack through her, he focuses on the way the sun shines through the desolate branches, knowing that Autumn, Summer and eventually, Spring, will return. 


	20. My Car Broke Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU setting - No supernatural themes.

Harry sighed as he travelled down the well-worn road that went from the University back to his home. It was a long trip, each and every day, but there was something calming about being far enough out of town that the lights of the city were duller, the roads more worn, and where he could escape. 

It had been snowing, and he was eager to get home and mark his papers. By the warm fire and almost certainly with a cup of tea. 

That was when he noticed the flashing lights at the side of the road and the small car that they belonged to. He barely even deliberated before turning on his blinker and pulling to the side of the road and behind the broken down car. 

He could make out a figure by the side of the car, examining the front left wheel. 

He got a little closer, careful not to startle her. 

“Excuse me, do you need some help?” 

The coated figure spun around immediately and Harry was faced with a can of pepper spray directed at his face, a finger paused on the button, ready to press down and release the can’s contents at a moments notice. 

Harry held his hands up in surrender before taking a step back, “I noticed your lights and wondered if you might need help.” 

The young woman tilted her head, examining him closely as if trying to determine whether he was genuine or not, she lowered the can slightly but kept her finger placed over the trigger, not trusting him completely. 

“I blew a tire,” she explains, pointing to the left side of her car, “I was just clearing the snow so I can get my jack underneath.”

“Right and do you need help?” he asked again. 

“I know how to change a tyre,” she snapped at him, her finger moving over the trigger once again. 

“I meant with clearing the snow,” Harry said, holding his hand out to her, “I am pretty useless when it comes to cars myself.”

She eyed it warily before taking it into her own, “Sorry, just some guys expect that because I’m a female I couldn’t possibly know how to change a tyre.”

“I’m Harry, by the way, Harry Greenwood,” he says giving her hand a firm shake before releasing it. 

“Macy,” she offers, and he notices she doesn’t disclose her last name and he doesn’t push for it. 

“Greenwood,” she repeats, as she moves back to the car, placing the pepper spray back in her coat pocket, “aren’t you in the Women’s Studies Department?” She kneels back down beside the tyre, continuing her task of clearing the snow, making a clear path to insert the jack.

“Head of,” he replied, as he began to follow her lead, grateful for the leather gloves that prevented the snow from coming in direct contact with his skin. 

“That's right,” Macy continued to shove the snow to the side, before she reached over for the jack, letting out a sigh as it easily slid underneath. “There was some commotion about that wasn’t there?”

Harry didn’t need to be reminded about the response that his assignment into the department had caused. He had replaced a very well respected and loved professor, her daughter, in particular, had made her objections to his placement very vocal. 

“Yes.”

“I work at the lab on campus.”

“Genetics right?” he guesses from the very quick orientation he received when he arrived on the campus. The Dean had been quick to point out that the University Campus was host to the Morningstar Labs at the very forefront of genetic experimentation. 

“Right,” she replies, a smile gracing her lips for the first time since they met. She begins to push on the lever as the car starts to rise, “Can you roll over that tyre?” She asks as she begins to undo the nuts on the blown tyre with uncanny ease. 

“You done this before?” he asks, as he leans the spare against the side of the car. 

“My dad, was very,” she pauses for a moment, “He wanted me to be independent, and cars were kind of his thing.” 

He notices the sadness that clouds her eyes, the subtle slumping of her shoulder and the overwhelming urge to tell her that he is sorry. But he doesn’t, careful not to overstep into territory that is painful and unwelcome. 

She pulls off the damaged tyre, handing it to him, “Can you put it in the trunk?” 

He gives a nod, moving to the back of the vehicle, placing the tyre into the boot careful not to cause the car to bounce too much at the impact. 

By the time he has returned to the side of the car, the spare tyre is put on and she is making short work of the nuts, tightening each one with a spin of the wrench. She gives each one a final check before lowering the car again before removing the jack. 

She moves around him to put it back in the boot, before slamming it shut. Standing awkwardly next to him in the snow, as if unsure how to proceed now that the task she was focused on is complete. 

“Um, thank you,” she offers holding out her hand again, which he takes in a firm shake before she pulls it away again. 

“No problem, although I do not think I was much of a help.”

“You kept anyone else from stopping, and some guys can be real… dicks.”

“I apologise on behalf of my gender. Have a pleasant night.” He says with a wave as he heads back to his own car. 

“Wait,” she calls out, stopping him as he opens his door, “maybe we could grab a coffee. Not now, of course, but maybe on campus. Next Tuesday.”

“I would enjoy that,” he answers quickly, grateful to know at least one friendly face on campus. 

“Just to say thank you,” she quickly adds. 

“For not being a dick,” he replies with a smile. 

“For not being a dick,” she repeats with a smile, mirroring his own as she gets back into the car. Her car rumbling awake and the emergency lights going out as she slowly drives away. He can’t help the smile spread across his face. 

That he may have just found a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I much like Harry Greenwood have very little knowledge about cars so fingers crossed this isn't wildly inaccurate. 
> 
> Also thank you so much to all those who have read this series so far. I have fallen behind a little (oops) but determined to make it to Christmas so thank you for your continued encouragement.


	21. It's Too Cold

Macy pulled her coat tighter around her body. This weather was officially out of control. They had moved to Seattle for crying out loud, she should at least be able to feel her feet. She sighed as she neared the seemingly vacant construction site, which contained their heavily cloaked home. 

She took a quick look around before sneaking past the gate. It had been at Mel’s insistence that they construct some kind of physical barrier, to stop anyone who decided to get a little too close. Macy winced as the gate screeched back into place, as she secured the lock behind her. 

It had been awkward the first couple of times stepping into something that wasn’t for all intents and purposes there. But as soon as her foot came into contact with the front step, she could see the house materialise in front of her. 

Another trick of Harry’s that the house was connected to them. It was only their touch that could uncloak the building and only for their eyes. She sighed as she opened the front door, going to remove her coat before she noted that the inside of the house was not much warmer than outside. In fact it was freezing cold. 

She muttered under her breath about the others letting the fire go out before she rounded the corner to see that the fire was actually burning bright. Illuminating the front room with its warm glow. She stepped closer to the fire, her hand reaching out to feel the radiant heat, but instead there was nothing but the biting cold around her. 

She could feel the sense of panic rising up in her. 

She was cold, freezing, fighting the urge to allow her teeth to chatter, her bones beginning to ache with the cold. 

“Harry!”, she manages before she falls to the floor, her body curling up in on itself in an attempt to ward away the cold. 

She feels his hand on her shoulder, but when he says her name it feels so far away, off in the distance and she is straining to be able to hear him as her vision begins to blur. 

She feels the ground fall from beneath her and a spinning sensation overcomes her as a bright light hits her eyes and she guesses that they have orbed. She opens her eyes again and she can make out the familiar shapes of her bedroom, and the softness of the bed underneath her. 

“Macy?” 

She hears him again. Her head trying to move in the direction of his voice, but it feels so heavy and unco-operative that the best she can manage is a grunt. 

His hand moves to her cheek, before being snapped away, “You’re freezing.” 

She loses track of him, before she feels a heaviness on her body, a gentle weight that brings some comfort to her. Blankets. From the weight, it must be nearly everyone that she keeps in the trunk at the bottom of her bed. 

“Macy, what happened?” His hand cups her cheek again and she yearns to feel the warmth of his skin against her own, but it has disappeared, replaced by a cold and stark feeling. 

“I - I don’t know,” she admits. It had been a normal day, watching the command centre, no red lights, which she had been thankful for since she had been on her own. Harry visiting Helen at the hospital, following an altercation that she had had with one of the nurses, which warranted further investigation and Maggie and Mel now having their own work commitments. 

Which had left her holding the fort, until Mel had finally come to relieve her, with a promise to text her if anything happened, Macy still acutely aware that she was still the only one with offensive power, courtesy of her demon side, while Maggie was still mastering hers. It was yet to be seen whether it could be used in a fight or was purely a defensive power that could be used to steer them in the right direction. 

She had followed her usual route back home, eager to get some rest now that her almost nightly visits from Jimmy had ceased, when she stopped by a new coffee shop. She had earnt a treat and ordered herself a latte and a shortbread square to go with it. 

It had been as she was leaving, admittedly too wrapped up in the coffee in her hand and removing the cookie from its bag, when she had collided with another woman, the stranger’s drink covering her chest, while Macy continued to apologise, offering to replace the drink. 

But the woman simply muttered something under her breath, that Macy didn’t quite hear, before moving forcefully past her. 

“I bumped into someone earlier today, it was an accident, but she seemed angry, I think she called me something,” Macy tried to remember the snippet she had heard, “Kōtta kok, kotta kokoro. I think.”

“A Yuki-Onna,” Harry sighed, before he orbed away, a moment of panic soaring in Macy, until he came back shortly after, carrying a book and a glass bottle in his hand. “A powerful one. She’s put a curse on you.”

“What? I didn’t mean to bump into her, it was an accident, I-” Macy stopped again as she felt a shiver pass through her body, noticing that the breath that left her lips was now visible. 

“There’s only one way to break it,” Harry says, opening the book in front of him his finger moving over the words before he looks back to Macy. The bed dipping under his weight as he sits next to her and Macy reaches out for his hand. Clasping it in her own as fear starts to seize her, a numbness spreading through her body. 

“Watashi wa anata ni kore o watashi no mottomo fukai yokubō no shōchō, naibu de moyasu koto o ataemasu.” Harry incants, before he presses the open glass bottle to his lips, drinking the liquid. 

He bends down, his lips brushing against her own, in a kiss that is hesitant and tender. Her eyes widen as he kisses her again, his hand moving to cup her cheek as he leans in closer lips moving against her own. 

And she can feel it. 

Her lips move in response as she begins to be able to feel the warmth of his lips against her own, his breath, hot against her lips, his hand warm against her cheek. And when his tongue moves across the seam of her lips, asking for permission, it almost burns and she is pulling at his collar in her desperate need for more of his warmth, all too soon feeling too warm under the mass of blankets, as he pulls back to meet her eyes. 

“Better?”, he asks, as his fingers trace across the side of her face, and she turns her head towards them, before giving a nod. She thinks of the fairy tales she would read as a child, about the princess, the prince and an act of true love. 

“Was that, and this is going to sound ridiculous true love’s kiss?”

“Not exactly,” he replies with a smile, as he gets off the bed allowing her to kick off the blankets that are no longer required. “The curse is susceptible to desires, both of the cursed and anyone connected to them.” He looks away, and Macy brings her hand up to his cheek, turning him back to face her. “I hoped that perhaps you might feel the same way.”

Macy pressed her lips against his, pulling back to see the smile on his face, as his hands moved to settle on her hips. 

“I do, and I am feeling much,” her hands moved from his hips to his back, “Much,” fingers tracing over the planes of his shoulders before looping around his neck, “better now.” 

And all of a sudden the room is much, much too warm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there may not be an update for a little while due to it being Christmas and all but I am determined to complete these 25 chapters and we only have 4 more to go!  
> Wishing everyone a happy christmas and hoping to be back with an update soon.


	22. Present Shopping

“I’m glad you finally called me Harry,” Maggie said as she ran her fingers over the numerous perfume bottles on the department store shelves. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair, and Maggie placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, she could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of him. 

“Relax, Harry,” she said as she gave his shoulder a squeeze before returning her attention to the store shelves. “We are going to find my sister the perfect present.”

Harry gave an eager nod, as he continued to follow her around the store. Looking at her expectantly every time she stopped to pick up something before she would shake her head and put it back down again. 

Maggie almost let out a laugh at the current state of their whitelighter. She had only seen him act this way around one other person, the Elder Charity and it had been incredibly obvious, even before she had touched his arm, how he had felt about her. 

It had not gone unnoticed by Maggie the way that Harry had acted around her older sister. Always attentive, the little shoulder squeezes, the way his face would light up when she would suggest that they catch up for tea at his office. 

Maggie had a small feeling of elation when she had suggested that they go to Galvin’s party together, encouraged by the enthusiasm that had exuded from Harry from across the kitchen table. 

Galvin had Summer. When Maggie thought of her sister and Harry together it gave her a giddy feeling in her stomach. Despite the fact that it was forbidden by the Elders Maggie could see it working. Mel would say it was just her young, perhaps naive ideas of romance but Maggie knew it was there but she kept it to herself.   


But then Macy had told her about Galvin, that he had feelings for her and she still had them for him despite the mark that was trying to keep them apart and Maggie had noticed how quickly the sparkle left Harry’s eyes, his back straightening as he made his excuses and orbed away from the home. 

And then she had gotten the call, the night before Christmas Eve and she had quickly assured him that she would be there, texting her apologies to her sisters that she would not be making their scheduled catch up at the Haunt. And now here they were standing in the book section, Harry still nervously shifting from foot to foot, occasionally a casual glance at his watch as the time before the stores would close for the night. 

She watched him out of the corner of her eye, as he paused in front of the cookbooks, his fingers reaching out to run along the spines of the various books before one seems to take his interest as he pulls it out and starts to flip through the pages. 

She comes closer, peering over his shoulder, taking in the visuals of cakes and cookies. Flans and brownies. Her mouth watering at just the pictures of the delicious treats. A smile widening on his face that was infectious. 

“That the one?” she asked, and he gave a nod, closing the book in his hands.   


“You truly have a gift Maggie Vera.” Harry said as he put the book under his arm, offering his other to Maggie, which she linked in with her own. 

“I merely point people in the right direction,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders. Unable to stop the thoughts that enter her mind, she smiles again to herself, hoping that things will work themselves out. 

That Harry will get that happy ending he is searching for. 


End file.
